


The Metamorphosis of a Small Town Nerd – A relevant essay on survival, by S. Stilinski

by surrenderdammit



Series: A Series by S. Stilinski [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexuality, Bullying, Drama, F/F, F/M, Prequel, Stiles and Scott Bromance, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:18:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrenderdammit/pseuds/surrenderdammit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prequel to <i>"Wibbly-Wobbly, Sexy-Messy Stuff - An insightful look at college life and its quirks, by S. Stilinski".</i></p><p>A story that begins with Stiles losing her mom, and works up until the events of "Wibbly-Wobbly". It's a tale of loss, bullying, a strong friendship, Witch Brews and the general woes of a teenager. </p><p>  <i>“Take my advice; don’t worry about it,” Stiles says, ripping open the bag of chips she packed this morning instead of bothering with making a sandwich. She only touches the cafeteria foods on emergencies. “It’s not worth it. People will get over it and you’ll soon be assimilated to become one of us. Resistance is futile.”</i></p><p>  <i>Scotty brightens. “Trekkie?”</i></p><p>  <i>“Trekker,” Stiles corrects, smiling widely. Not a bad choice to give this one a chance, she thinks.</i><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Metamorphosis of a Small Town Nerd – A relevant essay on survival, by S. Stilinski

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure about the quality of this one, but. Yeah. Here you go!
> 
> (General warning; English isn't my first language and I don't have a beta! Sorry!)
> 
> This is a lot less humorous than the "Wibbly-Wobbly" story, just so you know.
> 
> ///EDIT///
> 
> not kidding I actually got THIS comment: http://archiveofourown.org/works/981559/comments/4614784
> 
> LOL
> 
> ///END EDIT///

* * *

 

**YEAR 2005: 10 YEARS OLD.  
** _(When the world is turned up-side-down and everything changes forever.)_

* * *

Stiles learned early on that adults have a very different view on the social life of their kids compared to the _actual_ social life their kids have. While Stiles mostly plays with David and Andy during breaks, and sometimes at their places or hers, very rarely do any of the girls pay her much mind anymore. And sometimes David doesn’t want to play with _a girl_ , so Stiles’ left to wander the playground asking if there’s still room for one more in the games others are playing. There never really is, unless a teacher is nearby.

It first occurs to her during a parent-teacher meeting when Stiles is 8 and a well-meaning Mrs. Turner mentions how Stiles seems to roam the playground more alone than anything. There had been a sudden burning shame that lodged itself like a knot in Stiles’ stomach and she’d babbled on about preferring to be on her own making up her own games. She’d proceeded to explain Leaf Pirates and Stone Raids, getting a bit manic in her excitement to wipe the worried looks off of her parents’ faces. She’s never been good at keeping friends; she’ll approach anyone and talk their ears off, she’s not that kind of shy, but they get sick of her really easily and she’s got no idea why. She’s ashamed that she can’t be like her mom; beautiful and loved and perfect. Her dad worries too, but she once overheard them talking about her being independent and too smart for anyone to really keep up with her, whatever that meant.

So by the age of 10 Stiles feels big and responsible; she’s got her own key to the house and she gets to play with David and Andy enough that she no longer bothers trying to join in on any other games anymore. She’s convinced she wouldn’t have any fun anyway, because Jackson is a mean bully and Lydia wears lipgloss now and dresses like the girls on the Disney Channel; all cutesy and grown-up. Stiles’ attention is never on the same thing for long and if she plays her own games that’s never a problem, not like it is when David gets angry and sulks by the swings or when her mom or dad looks at her without comprehension and sighs wearily.

Then her mom gets sick and no one questions why Stiles isn’t hanging around Lydia and her friends, or why she hides in the bathroom sometimes and comes out with red, puffy eyes. Suddenly she isn’t independent and too smart, but angry and helpless and scared. Not even David or Andy is around much after her mom’s been hospitalized the second time. Her classmates are wary and don’t understand why she’s being even weirder than normal; they don’t understand why the teachers are pushing them at her or why she fights it with fists and teeth.

Her dad starts drinking, something she doesn’t really understand until a few years later; now she just sees how he’s changing just as her mom is, and just like Stiles herself is. It’s scary and she doesn’t know where she stands anymore; she’s not sure she knows who her dad is, when he lies so deeply asleep on the couch he doesn’t feel her pry an empty bottle out of his hands. She doesn’t know the pale, sick woman who rarely has a smile for her nowadays; the sickness as well and the medicine making her weak and sad, they say. 

Stiles gets sick too. It’s not the same as her mom, but it makes Stiles sad just like her, so maybe it is. It’s something that makes her chest go tight and makes it difficult to breathe; something that makes the world spin and hurts _so much_ in a way she doesn’t recognize. It’s not like her broken arm in 1st grade at all. But she gets medicine too and it helps, somewhat, which makes her hope her mom’s medicine is working too.

She thinks her dad’s sick too, and the smelly bottles he drinks from are his medication. It doesn’t seem to help though, and she doesn’t want to ask her mom because she has to focus on getting better.

Stiles gets very, very, very angry when she doesn’t.

.

It takes a while for Stiles to _get it_. That she can’t visit the hospital and see her mom anymore, because she’s _gone_. She isn’t at home, she isn’t at work, she isn’t out of town. She’s _gone_. Looking at her dad though, she finally gets it, because he’s a _wreck._ Stiles doesn’t understand what she’s feeling; she’s so angry, because mom had promised to take her to the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles on her 11 th birthday and now she _can’t_. Stiles is angry that she didn’t get better, so angry that she left her and dad.

She doesn’t really understand that she feels utterly helpless and afraid, guilty and sad and utterly bereft.

She gets sicker. Panic attacks, they call it. Anxiety. Somewhere along the way there’s ADHD, but she’s not paying attention. Her dad’s still sick too, but getting better at hiding it. Stiles breaks Jackson Whittemore’s nose when he laughs at her after she breaks down in the cafeteria once; she refuses to explain why to her teachers but when her dad comes to fetch her she breaks down. Jackson had commented on her lunch – a soggy PB and J sandwich as usual these days, no longer the chicken salads and fish burgers her mom used to do – and proudly showed off his homemade chili because _his_ parents loved him.

It’s not the first time her dad says he’s proud of her, but it’s the first time it really stays with her.

They’ll get better, but it takes time.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2008: 13 YEARS OLD.  
** _(Meeting a friend for life.)_

* * *

Scotty is the New Girl; new to town with her mom the nurse, no dad in tow. People talk and aren’t that nice, but Stiles is used to it by now. She doesn’t much care that Mrs. McCall is a divorced single mom, good on her for being independent or whatever. She met her in the hospital at the end of summer, when she was in for a check-up and getting her Adderall dosage adjusted. She doesn’t seem heartbroken, just a little jaded, so Stiles mostly thinks _good on her_ because Mr. McCall must’ve been a douche either for leaving her or for her having left.

So when school starts up, Stiles doesn’t bother listen to the whispers down the halls and in the classroom as the newest poor sod to get stuck in Beacon Hills comes bumbling through. They’re in the same class together but don’t speak; Stiles doesn’t like anyone enough to hang out with and Scotty seems wide-eyed and shy enough that Lydia Martin turns up her nose at her, which means the majority of the boys and girls in class just stares when Scotty introduces herself though blushing stutters and awkward fidgeting.

It’s not until lunch on the second day that they exchange for than a glance between them. Scotty comes up to where Stiles sits alone at her usual table, looking extremely embarrassed but painfully hopeful.

“Hey…Stiles, right? Um, can I sit with you? I don’t really...have anyone to sit with,” she says, fidgeting with her lunch tray. Stiles smiles awkwardly, because the girl is cute and obviously well-meaning. She feels a sudden burst of protectiveness because she knows from personal experience what the kids of this town does to vulnerable people, and Scotty seems ridiculously easy to break where she stands too-thin and carefully optimistic.

“Sure!,” Stiles says with a grin finally, deciding to give it a go. She hasn’t tried making friends since forever; she might as well see where it goes. She wouldn’t mind having someone to talk at during lunch again. “You can sit with me any time; I don’t have anyone to sit with either. The school is full of douches.”

“Oh,” Scotty blinks, seeming unsure what to say. “Um, I wouldn’t really know. I haven’t gotten the chance to get to know anyone yet.”

“Precisely,” Stiles nods. “Point made. No one’s approached you to see if you’d make a good potential friend and/or minion. You’ve probably got Lydia to blame for that.”

Scotty looks confused. “Lydia Martin? Why? And you haven’t approached me either; does that make you a douche too?”

Stiles grins. “You’re smarter than you look! I’m most definitely a douche, but not on the same level as the rest of Beacon Hills in general. I’m only mean towards people I don’t like.” Scotty laughs at that. “As for Lydia Martin… She’s the Queen Bee and everyone is her follower or the gum on her shoe. And well, everyone knows your parents are divorced; it’s a small town. Most people pity you guys or think it’s some kind of scandal, and some just recent you for illogical and stupid reasons. Lydia is the latter. Her parents divorced last year and she’s been an entitled bitch who thinks her family drama makes her special ever since. She probably sees you as either a potential threat or someone she’ll secretly envy. Jury’s still out on that one. But as she disapproves of you either way, no one who cares for the social ladder of teenagers will approach you.”

Scotty shakes her head in bewilderment, causing Stiles to smirk in understanding. Social life in general is a hazard to navigate. “Uh, that’s…I didn’t know that. About what people think, I mean,” she says, sounding worried. “We’ve only been here for like a month!”

“Take my advice; don’t worry about it,” Stiles says, ripping open the bag of chips she packed this morning instead of bothering with making a sandwich. She only touches the cafeteria foods on emergencies. “It’s not worth it. People will get over it and you’ll soon be assimilated to become one of us. Resistance is futile.”

Scotty brightens. “Trekkie?”

“Trekker,” Stiles corrects, smiling widely. Not a bad choice to give this one a chance, she thinks.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2009: 14 YEARS OLD.  
** _(During which Witch Brews and Skinny Dipping are a thing.)_

* * *

“Okay, let’s see,” Stiles hums, browsing the booze cabinet her dad keeps, Scotty hovering anxiously behind her with two empty coke bottles. “Let’s take some of this,” she reaches for a Jack Daniel’s, opening it and pouring some down one of the bottles Scotty hands her, making sure to just take enough that it isn’t too visible before putting the whiskey back. “Aaaand this,” she continues, grabbing a bottle of Gin. “Oh, and this!” Martini. “And…these.” Vodka and some sweet smelling cherry liqueur.

“Aha!”, she exclaims, turning around with a now-filled bottle of alcohol. Scotty wrinkles her nose, eyeing it distrustfully. Stiles shrugs. “I call it Witch Brew. It positively foul and may be slightly toxic, but it gets the job done without raising any suspicions. No need to sneak a whole bottle of vodka away and try to explain again! Your mom was _not_ happy.”

Scotty nods, looking a bit queasy at the brown-ish color of the mix. “You don’t need to remind me. So, what of the other bottle?”

Stiles grins. “Your mom is a total wine box woman; we’ll just sneak some of her red wine into that. She won’t be able to tell.”

“Okay,” sighs Scotty, resigned. “We better hurry before she gets home though.”

Nodding, Stiles secures the bottle of Witch Brew in her bag before ushering Scotty out the door, locking up and making for their bikes. “So I was thinking the preserve, by the lake again. What d’you say?”

Scotty hops on her bike, titling her head. As they set off to her house, she replies. “What about the Hales? Isn’t that risky? We’ve already bumped into Cora, like, five times.”

“Nah,” Stiles shrugs. “We’ll be at our spot. I don’t care if Cora sees; I saw her getting frisky with Justin Baker last week, in his car. I totally have the photo evidence for it so if she tells on us, I’ll tell on her.”

Scotty laughs, bike wobbling as they speed down the street. “I don’t know if you’re evil or a genius, or just an evil genius, Stiles.”

Grinning, Stiles takes her hands off the handlebars and continues on effortlessly; it took many skinned knees and bruised limbs to gain that skill. “I’m an evil genius and you’re my hopeless side-kick!”

“Hey!” Scotty protests without much force, giggling.

Stiles concedes. “Okay, I’m more like the genius anti-hero and you’re my conscience.”

“Dunno if that’s better or worse,” Scotty snorts, rolling her eyes. Stiles grins winningly, executing a perfect turn as the road curves. Scotty laughs. “Show-off!”

They make it home to the McCalls in one piece, managed to sneak wine from the box Mrs. McCall keeps in the kitchen for when she comes home after a late shift, and are on their way before getting caught. They make it all the way to the preserve, where they park their bikes and ignore the ‘Private Property’ signs because the Hales never report anyone anyway, before continuing on foot. After about 20 minutes they make it to the edge of the lake, from where they start making their way around it in order to get as far away from Hale property as possible, finally finding the slight inlet hidden by bushes and trees that they’d discovered earlier this summer and had been visiting almost every day since the break started.

They have it down to a routine now; slinging off their bags and getting the blanket out to sit on. They take out their towels and inflatable donuts, fling off their clothes until they’re in their bikinis, and start on blowing the donuts full of air. It takes a while, making them dizzy from lack of air and giggles, but they get it done. They place them on the blanket and settle their butts in the holes, like make-shift chairs, before getting out the bottle of Witch Brew and an actual bottle of coke; taking a sip of the first before downing it with a sip of the latter. They pass the bottles back and forth until they get buzzed, putting them away to make their way to the lake. Stiles slips out of her bikini on a whim, grinning madly as Scotty giggles and follows suit, though she keeps the bottom piece on.

“You’re crazy!” she says, delighted though she may be. Stiles shrugs easily, running out into the water with her donut firmly hugged against her chest. She falls forward and land with a splash, ass in air as she propels herself forward by kicking out with her legs and drenching Scotty in waves of water.

“Stiles!” Scotty shouts, speeding up as she copies her and swims after. “Get back here you asshole!”

Laughing, Stiles heaves herself up and around, plating her butt in the hole again and lounging lazily as if sunning in a beach chair. “Whatever loser!”, she calls back, paddling away with feet and hands. There isn’t much heat in Scotty’s chase, and after she doses Stiles with a vicious swipe of water they’re mostly even and Scotty joins her in her lazy drifting.

“Mmm, this is nice,” Scotty sighs, face titled backwards as they float with their hands clasped together as to not stray too far away from each other. Stiles hums in reply, content.

They laze about for a little while more, slipping into the water when they’ve dried and become sun-hot all over, before they make their way back to shore where they finish off the last of the Witch Brew and manages half of the wine before Scotty throws up.

It’s almost time for dinner before they dry off and struggle into their clothes, giggling and drunk, making their way back to their bikes and sobering up as much as they can by concentrating on the daunting task of playing at being sober in front of their parents. It goes surprisingly well; Stiles dad is distracted by a case and Scotty’s mom is in a rush to get to work.

They meet up at Scotty’s place and finish off the rest of the wine, sneaking some more from the box in the kitchen, and pass out in Scotty’s bed together watching the new Star Trek movie for the 54th time.

Life is good.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2010: 15 YEARS OLD.  
** _(Crushes are revealed but not always acted upon.)_

* * *

It takes a while for Stiles to notice, but once she does, she wishes to any deity that might hear her that she would’ve never figured it out, _ever_. It’s yucky and embarrassing and maybe even a little awesome because, well, it’s _her dad_ and her dad is _totally awesome_ and deserving of his own fanclub. But also, it’s _Scotty_ harboring a really embarrassing crush on Stiles’ _dad_. While Stiles can’t blame her, it’s still gross and hilarious in a way that is slightly hysterical. But, well, once Stiles stats to recognize the stuttering and blushes and misty-eyed admiration that overcomes Scotty whenever she sees Stiles’ dad in a uniform or lounging in the couch with a beer in jeans, it goes a bit downhill from there.

First of all, Stiles memorizes this as ‘Scotty’s Hero Worship/Weird Crush’ behavior for future references because she’s a good friend sometimes and thinks she should probably be prepared for this in the future. Then she mocks the ever-loving shit out of Scotty because it distracts her from the fact it’s Stiles’ _dad_ , and because Stiles is something of a douche.

They agree never to talk about it again after Scotty catches Stiles staring at her boobs.

It’s a testament to the awesomeness of Scotty that their friendship doesn’t change, and Scotty doesn’t stop being Scotty with her, poking each other’s boobs and cuddling in panties and all.

.

Stiles gets an interesting message on AIM one day, late into October.

> **CattyGirl_96** says:  
>  _Hi! You’re Stiles, right?_

She only really had Scotty and Andy on her AIM, which means she freaks out for a whole three minutes before she replies.

> **whatever.go4it** says: **  
> ** _uuhhh…yeah? who’s this?_

The whoever replies with some bullshit about knowing Jackson, going to the school in the next county and having seen Stiles when visiting and asking who she was.

> **CattyGirl_96** says: **  
> ** _I just thought you were really cute. Is there someone in your school you think is cute?_

Stiles wrinkled her nose, not really caring who this is but enjoying their banter so far. Turns out this girl knows her DC and Marvels, at least.

> **whatever.go4it** says: **  
> ** _lots of cute people. no one I like. u know Lydia right? hot babe but total bitch, no offence. n Jackson sux. but Scotty’s cute, n Jenna. Y?_

She’s more interested than she should be; she knows it’s probably some freak or someone out to prank her, but she doesn’t really care. There isn’t a lot left to faze her nowadays. 

> **CattyGirl_96** says: **  
> ** _No reason. Gotta go. TTYL!_

Bewildered, Stiles doesn’t get a chance to reply before they’ve signed off. A few hours later she gets the most awkward e-mails she’s ever received.

> **From:** “Erica Reyes”  <CattyGirl_96@aol.com>  
>  **Subject:** Hi!  
>   
>  _Um. So, sorry that I left so suddenly :P Do you really think Scotty is cute? :/ I didn’t think there was something between you… Sorry, I shouldn’t listen to gossip, but like you said; Jackson sucks! And Lydia is a bitch >:/ They say you and Scotty are lesbians but Scotty isn’t, right?_
> 
> _Sorry, I just really think you’re cute >////<_

Stiles stares at the name, getting a vague recollection of a shy, dirty-blonde girl a year below that is as ignored as she is bullied. She opens the next e-mail.

> **From:** “Erica Reyes”  <CattyGirl_96@aol.com>  
>  **Subject:** OMG
> 
> _I am sooooo sorry!!!! That wasn’t me!!! My cousin was over and she thought it’d be fun to mess with me so she talked to you, SHE’S the one who knows Jackson not me and I’m so sorry!!!_

Stiles _really_ doesn’t think Erica has a cousin who knows Jackson and would go through the trouble of finding out Stiles’ AIM. She imagines Erica is probably dying of mortification right now, which yeah, she probably should because it seems like she forgot her name would show up on the e-mail. For anonymity you really need to use fake names when registering e-mail addresses, Stiles thinks. She herself is registered under ‘Scarlett White’. Because Scarlett Johansson is hot and Betty White is epic.

Stiles decided to pay more attention to Erica from now on, because no girls is openly gay or bisexual in Beacon Hill High and Stiles is really dying to kiss someone that _isn’t_ Scotty or a very drunk Lydia.

.

Stiles asks Erica out for the Christmas dance and kisses her in a dark corner, flipping off the catcalls from Jackson and his minions.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2011: 16 YEARS OLD.  
** _(Heartbreak and misery.)_

* * *

Stiles feels pretty good about life. She’s got a girlfriend, Danny came to her to talk about coming out and became a sort-of friend when Jackson wasn’t there glaring at them. Her dad had been slightly confused but quite firm on the fact that he loved her no matter what, which might have led to some tears and a lot of hugging, but yeah. Erica is a sweetheart; Stiles has read up on every piece of information about epilepsy she can find, feeling a desperate need to be there for her like she couldn’t be for her mom or dad. It works, for the most part, and Erica is slowly growing into herself. It’s amazing to watch; Stiles helps her bleach her hair and get the chemical stuff on the tiles of her bathroom, laughing at the picture Erica makes all donned up in foil and lather. For a while it’s great; they learn how to kiss properly together and when Stiles first goes down on her Stiles knows this is what she wants. Soft curves and a rosy-pink cunt; firm boobs and curvy hips. She delights in the Erica she gets to know; there’s a strong determination underneath all that insecurity and that determination only grows as Stiles stays around to kiss her cheek and hold her hand without shame.

It’s pretty amazing, actually, and she can’t help but feel smug in the face of Scotty’s jealousy. Not that Scotty is very unpopular now that she’s more boobs and long legs than flailing arms, but they’re still at the bottom of the social ladder although Stiles and Erica suffer through their fair share of boys ogling or girls bashing. Homophobia and sexism is not a thing of the past, sadly, but Stiles is used to dealing with assholes and bloodies Matt’s nose when he tries to give Erica shit about it. In the end it laves Stiles in the ER with Matt charged for slander and abuse, but it’s worth it for the intense pussy licking Erica subjects her to once she’s discharged.

It should all be fine, really, but Erica doesn’t stop at bleaching her hair. There’s suddenly tons of make-up, slutty corsets that Stiles very much approves of but feels uneasy with in public, and an attitude Stiles isn’t sure what to make of. She really likes Erica, she does, and at first having her straddle her lap in the cafeteria is hilarious and not just a little arousing. But it’s when she starts being outright _mean_ that Stiles gets truly worried.

When Erica corners _Vernon fucking Boyd’s_ lap and kisses the hell out of him after he remarked on the way she clung to Stiles, it became _A Problem_.

“I was just making a point!”, Erica seethes, red-faced and utterly gorgeous in her leather jacket and skirt. Stiles looks at her, feeling a little helpless.

“Okay, okay!” she tries to soothe. “But you can’t really fault me for not liking the fact that you _kissed_ someone else in front of the entire school?”

Erica bristles. “Like you and Scotty aren’t all over each other all the time! Why are you being such a jealous bitch? Is it because I’m hot now? That other people want me now? That I’m no longer your fucking _charity project?!”_

Stiles’ breath hitches. “Jesus,” she breathes out, wide-eyed. “Is…is that what you really think? Erica, what…why would you…No!”

Erica flips her hair over her shoulder and sneers. “We all know you’re still panting after Scotty, Stiles. I don’t know why I put up with you; you blow me off for Scotty all the time! Just fuck off, will you?”

She leaves Stiles with barely a backwards glance and it _really fucking hurts_ , because Erica used to be sweet and awesome but now Stiles doesn’t know what to do.

A week later Erica is straddling Boyd in the cafeteria and Stiles feels sick to her stomach.

Scotty tries her best but Jackson and his goons are laughing at her and calling her a failed dyke, turning lesbians straight, and life is just really quite fucking awful.

.

The third time Danny takes Stiles to Jungle, she find herself walking home with only one for company. It wasn’t supposed to go like that, but Danny left early with a hook-up that was blonde and blue-eyed, and the rest of the gang (Jungle regulars, Danny’s crowd) didn’t much care if she ended up in an alley all alone.

Which, as it happens, she does. Sort of.

She’s lucky, she knows, because she’s with Sugar Plum Annie and they’re both dressed like professional Drag Queens; Sugar Plum in her sparkly dress and square jaw, Stiles in her army boots and short skirt, breasts bound in a sports bra because she wasn’t planning to go out tonight. Stiles hair is short, not even a bob cut, but cut close to her scalp for once because she just had to change _something_ , and she probably looks like Sugar Plum’s trainee. It’s a group of three men that seems too drunk to stand straight. Stiles isn’t of much help, but Sugar Plum managed to get a few good hits in.

In the end, they’re left with a few black eyes and broken knuckles, bruised ribs and split lips. Stiles isn’t even crying, she’s too shocked and too grateful no one realized she’s a girl and got any ideas. Sugar Plum is wheezing and calling the cops, an ambulance, and Stiles doesn’t really know what happens after that.

She feels safe in the trembling arms of Sugar Plum, almost doesn’t recognize her dad when he comes running, and it’s really truly fucking awful.

She ignores Erica’s attempt to speak with her for a month, and then she gives up and Stiles is viciously glad for it. She just really doesn’t want to hear it.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2012-2013: 17-18 YEARS OLD.  
** _(Quick summary to get shit going, because life goes on as usual.)_

* * *

Her last two years in Beacon Hills are mostly uneventful. There’s the time Erica approaches her about Isaac Lahey, for which Stiles is very glad she didn’t ignore her ex-girlfriend out of spite, because it turns out his dad’s a fucking monster and getting Stiles’ dad on the case doesn’t take much.

Isaac isn’t very grateful at first, for which Stiles doesn’t give much of a shit because loving your dad or not, some things just aren’t right. He gets adopted by the Johnsons, and in Scotty and Stiles’ finally year, he dates Scotty for seven months before they break up to the chorus of a sad violin. It’s a sad violin in Stiles’ mind, at least.

In the end though, they don’t quite escape the gay rumors that have followed them ever since they became friends. Not that either Scotty or Stiles minds (though Scotty is quite firm on the fact that she’s straight), since Scotty has come to accept that the whole of Beacon Hills is actually the breeding ground of Grade-A Assholes, but it’s nice to be rid of the place when they finally went off to college together.

It’s the start of a whole new adventure.

* * *

 

**YEAR 2016: 21 YEARS OLD.  
** _(See; “Wibbly-Wobbly, Sexy-Messy Stuff - An insightful look at college life and its quirks, by S. Stilinski”.)_

* * *

Stiles finally meets Derek this year, and it goes a bit downhill from there. Well, maybe not downhill, but her world twists a bit up-side-down again in a decidedly good way. This time around Scotty is right there with her; awkward sexual identity crisis and all.

The only problem is how to backtrack and explain to her dad that, well, perhaps she wasn’t as lesbian as she though; maybe the bisexual route was more her thing?

After about 20 odd random hook-ups, 3 of which she’d dated for more than a month ever since she started college, Stiles thinks this might be something of a reverse revelation because every single one of these hookups had been female. It’s something her dad had been expecting since Erica but now there’s Derek and Stiles is pretty much heads-over-heels but unsure how to breach the topic when thanksgiving comes around.

She’s only been dating Derek for two months and neither of them are very concerned with anything that doesn’t have to do with them, personally, together.

 It’s why it takes her until Thanksgiving to figure out he’s _the_ Derek _Hale_. Of _Beacon Hills_. California.

She asks about Cora when she finds out, wondering if he ever knew of her and Scotty skinny dipping in their lake.

Derek promptly blushes bright red. “That was _you?!”_

And hey, he might feel creepy about having been a 20 year old admiring naked 14 year olds, but Stiles just feels immensely gleeful about the whole thing.

“We are _never_ telling your dad. Or my parents. Or Cora, or Laura, or Peter. Oh _my God_ Stiles!”

She snickers. What are the odds, right?

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Yet again; some of this shit is based on my own experiences and friendship with my "BFF". The bullying in the beginning is pretty much my own experience, the "Witch Brew" is so totally my 8th grade to 9th grade years, as well as the skinny dipping. 
> 
> A few other tidbits are mine as well (the truly horrifying thing about the e-mails; I did that to my crush in 7th grade and it was before I knew much of the internet...it was like 2003 and I'd just gotten an MSN account; I had no idea my name would show up on the e-mail. MY CRUSH WAS ONE OF THE POPULAR GUYS. THERE WAS NO HAPPY ENDING FOR ME *dies in shame*).
> 
> So, uh, sorry if the story seem weird? But since I started the series on my own experiences I though I might as well continue it. 
> 
> Hope you liked it, anyway! 8,D //DIES.


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